


Surprise Party

by Arsenic



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-12
Updated: 2007-04-12
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Brendon thinks everyone has forgotten his birthday.





	Surprise Party

**Author's Note:**

> Written on the occasion of Brendon Urie's twentieth birthday.

On the morning of April 12th, Brendon bounds out to the cabin's kitchen and declares it to be a, "Good morning!"

Ryan looks over. "Tell me you haven't begun mainlining coffee in your sleep."

Brendon feels his good mood die an almost instantaneous death, but he makes sure to hold to his smile because there is nothing more pathetic than acknowledging that you know your friend has forgotten your birthday. Besides, there's always Jon and Spencer. Jon and Spencer wouldn't have forgotten.

Ryan just gets caught up in the writing sometimes. Yes. That's it.

Brendon goes off to find said other bandmates without answering Ryan's question. It doesn't deserve an answer. And Ryan doesn't look as though he's expecting one.

Spencer and Jon are playing video games in the main room. Brendon drapes himself across the couch and musses their hair. Spencer slaps his hand away. Jon asks, "You just get up, lazy?" in that indolent, fond way that he sometimes can.

"Uh, yeah," Brendon says and wanders off the back porch so that if he has to cry, it isn't in front of them.

He doesn't cry. He's twenty now. Not a teenager anymore. So what if his friends haven't noticed? He has.

Maybe they've lost track of the days.

Yeah, that's probably it. It's hard, in the cabin, to know these things. Even if they all check their Sidekicks roughly fourteen times a day. Really.

By four o'clock every single member of Brendon's immediate family has called and he's written the melody for an entire song that's too emo, even for Panic.

By five he's decided he's taking himself out to dinner and goes to tell someone--anyone--where he's going. Not that they care, but on the off-chance they do, Brendon really doesn't want to get yelled at this particular evening.

He can't find any of them anywhere and is about to give up and just take the car, consequences be damned, when he walks into his room for his wallet and instead finds three naked boys lounging, painted with the words "Happy" (Jon), "Birthday" (Ryan) "Brendon" (Spencer).

Brendon blinks, wondering for a moment if he's advanced to full-blown delusions.

Ryan says, "Surprise," and it sounds too droll and Ryan-like to be anything but real.

"Took you long enough to come up," Spencer adds, and yeah, that's not something his own fantasy would say to him. He doesn't think. He's pretty sure.

"C'mere," Jon says.

Fantasy or no, Brendon does as bid, crawling over his bed to where they are. They reposition him as they so please, Spencer removing Brendon's sandals, Jon getting his shirt, Ryan his pants. Once the shirt is gone, Jon moves in to kiss Brendon and it's good, it's so fucking nice, but Brendon tears his mouth away to ask, "Wait, you guys got me sex with you for my birthday? Because that's kind of egotistic and lame. Especially after you almost made me cry."

"You almost _cried_?" Ryan asks.

Brendon nods. Unlike certain people, he's man enough to admit it.

"You like surprises," Spencer says.

"You could have woken me up with sex," Brendon tells him, "that would have been a good surprise."

Ryan puts a hand to Brendon's hip and asks, "Should we really have gotten you something else?" sounding a little bit watery himself.

Brendon wants to say, "yes," he does, but he's only wanted one thing since the day Jon joined the damn band, so, "No."

Ryan grins and leans up a bit for a kiss of his own.

Brendon feels Jon's hands sliding over his ass, Spencer's finding their way around his cock, and okay, maybe they're not the worst friends in the world ever. Maybe.

At the very least, it's definitely not the worst birthday Brendon's ever had.

Jon murmurs into his ear, "We wouldn't forget you like that."

Ryan bites Brendon's lower lip in consternation for even thinking they could.

Spencer slaps at Brendon's cock a little bit, causing Brendon to cry out, just one sharp wail, followed quickly by a, "Please."

Jon asks, "What do you want?"

Ryan tells him, "It's your birthday, you know?"

By this time, Brendon has validly forgotten. He opens his eyes to find Ryan. "I want to fuck Spencer."

Ryan nods in appreciation. "His ass."

"Yes," Brendon hisses.

"What else?" Jon prompts.

"I want Jon to fuck me," Brendon says, still talking to Ryan.

"He has a pretty nice cock," Ryan agrees. "What about me?"

Brendon just works himself downward until he can take Ryan in his mouth, the way he's wanted to do since the moment he first laid eyes on him, all punk-wannabe eyes and hair and those full-grown hands that fit even though they shouldn't have. Ryan threads those hands in Brendon's hair and Brendon squeezes his cock with his cheeks, his tongue.

Ryan pants, "Brendon, oh."

Brendon keeps at what he's doing and lets Jon and Spencer do all the rest of the work. He opens his eyes to watch, of course--Jon sliding his fingers in and out of Spencer's ass is _not_ a sight to be missed--but mostly he just enjoys what he's doing, enjoys Jon's slick slide all the way home, the way one of his hands finds its way to Ryan's thigh and the extra attention is just too much, Ryan coming a bit in Brendon, a bit on him, and both are good, both are fine. It's Ryan, and Brendon can't think of a time when Ryan's ever been willing to give him something and he hasn't wanted it.

The song he writes tomorrow will sound so, _so_ different.

Ryan having fallen away, Jon pulls Brendon along so that they're both lying on their backs, Brendon on top of Jon. Spencer rises up above them and settles himself on Brendon with barely a pause, barely a thought. Brendon gasps in pleasure that is beyond mindless and is impressed when his hands manage to find Spencer's hips, to caress at the bizarrely soft skin wrapped over the bones.

Ryan is saying things, a litany, a "holy fuck, holy fuck, so fucking hot," and Brendon lets it sink into his mind, lets it carry him through the otherwise somewhat unbearable pleasure of having these two, having them at once, having them.

Brendon has no idea when he comes, when any of them come, he can't be bothered to pay attention to that sort of thing, all he knows is that sooner or later the world is utterly silent, utterly dark.

Then he returns to it.

Ryan is resting almost atop him, Spencer managing to spoon the both of them, Jon holding up his end of the bargain from Brendon's other side.

"Are we forgiven?" Ryan asks.

Brendon's only twenty and the night is young. "Not yet."


End file.
